


It's Not The Team Who Needs Healing

by iioatsu



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Crying, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Men Crying, Mental Instability, Red Oktoberfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:33:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5167415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iioatsu/pseuds/iioatsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Medic can't shake the feeling of depression looming over his mind, and only Heavy is able to somewhat console the broken doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not The Team Who Needs Healing

**Author's Note:**

> It's a headcanon from tumblr; I twisted it a smidge but eh.
> 
> Based on this ask:
> 
> post/123442416294/what-about-medic-suffering-from-depression-and-is

Medic sat and stared down at the clear yellow bottle, still half-full with little white tablets. He wiped away a forming tear and sighed, wedging his fingers between the white top and the plastic to pop off the cap. "Doktor?" A low voice rumbled from across the room. "...Da?" Medic answered, watching the pills as if they'd disappear any moment. A defiant creak of bed springs and heavy footsteps alerted the Medic that he was no longer the only one awake in the base.

"Doktor, what are you doing?" Misha moved to sit down on the wooden bench and worriedly glanced at Medics shaking hands. The older man didn't respond, eyes still glued to the medication sifting around the bottle.

"I am fine, mein fraulein," Medic glanced up through his metal-rimmed glasses to meet his Heavy's soft gaze only to find himself staring back down at his hands. Heavy took this as a sign of Medic lying. 

"Doktor." Misha spoke again, this time more firm as he gently moved over to crouch in front of Medic. "Doktor what is wrong?"

Through his hazy thoughts, Medic heard Misha's soft voice penetrate the heavy fog clouding his mind. Misha gently pulled off the Medic's circular glasses and set them aside. He looked almost ridiculous holding the thin frames without breaking it in half. "моя́ любо́вь...my sweetheart," The larger man began to say until Medic cut him off with a raspy laugh.

"Nein, do not patronize me with your sweet words. I am not a baby," Medic spat and swat away Misha's hands. "I am fine, can't you see?" the German gestured around his body, indicating no sign of physical ailment. But although Medic thought he sounded strong and confident, his voice came out breathless and sounded like he was on the verge of screaming or sobbing. Heavy didn't know which one and only stared back with sad eyes.

"Is Doktor not happy with Heavy? Why is Medic upset?" Misha tried to understand the pain in his lover's voice, cupping the smaller man's face with his hands to wipe away forming tears. 

"Misha…" Medic began and broke off, clutching the depressants in his hand. "Misha, I am afraid." Medic fearfully let his words fall out, feeling each syllable stick to his mouth like glue. "What am I even doing here? Surrounded by dying bodies, bringing life back to men that should've died ages ago..." Medic dejectedly smiled to himself and dumped the medication into his hand, swallowing a handful all at once under Misha's concerned gaze. "Misha am I in the wrong? Why do I feel like zis?" Medic choked back a sob, the depressants threatening to come back up through his throat.

Heavy's face softened as he pulled the doctor down to where he was kneeling and into his big frame. "Doktor, please..." Misha murmured into the Medics disheveled hair, pulling back to leave a trail of kisses from the crying mans forehead to his cheeks. "Do not cry. I am here, Я люблю тебя, I love you."

The large man kept repeating his love to the Medic in his native tongue, slowly prying the medication bottle from Medics hands and placing it onto the bench he was previously seated on. "I promise recovery," Misha lightly smiled and placed a kiss on Medic's lips, rendering the smaller man silent. With a heaving chest, Medic felt his hiccups stop and in Misha's embrace, let the medication overwhelm him and fell into a deep slumber.

"спокойной ночи." Heavy cradled the fragile doctor in his arms and walked back towards the small bed. It hardly had enough room for the two of them, but Medic always told Heavy that the size didn't matter as long as they were together. Setting the exhausted doctor on the mattress, a sigh escaped Misha's lips when Medic refused to let go of his arm. To soft-hearted to tear his arm away, Heavy laid down next to the small man and pulled him into his warm embrace, gradually allowing the slow breathing of his lover lull him to sleep. It was going to be a long, long night.


End file.
